When The Storm Comes
by Miranda
Summary: When something happens at a party Santana discovers that pushing things away sometimes causes them to come back and kick you in the butt.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. And because I hate writing it over and over this disclaimer applies to all following chapters.

AN: Thanks to The Imperfectionist for being a wonderful Beta. You made me glad I finally got around to using one. =) If there are mistakes to be found in this story it's because I changed a few things after it was beta'd and are all on me.

When The Storm Comes 

Prologue 

Her body had become a statue, its dead weight pressing down into the mattress.

The phone vibrated across the desk for the fifth time that morning, but Santana made no move to answer it from beneath the covers of her bed. She knew who it was and she knew she should get up and answer it.

But try as she might she just couldn't find the energy to lift her head from the pillow.

She hadn't moved since crawling into bed the night before, not to change out of her clothes, not even to turn off her alarm, which was still beeping intermittently on the bedside table, and not to brush away the tears that had long since left the pillow damp. Her mind was having trouble focusing. It had only been the last hour or so that the noise of her alarm and phone had made it through the fog to register in her head. She told herself again she really needed to get up and answer the phone, but her brain seemed stuck on the command of 'move,' like a record needle caught in a groove, unable to continue the thought.

It took almost another hour before she finally managed to get her hands to push back the blankets, at which point it took all her willpower not to immediately pull them back over her head and check out again. For it was with movement that the pain came back and it took the cool air of the bedroom on her skin to remind her that the chill was reaching parts of her body that her clothes should have protected. She swung her legs to the floor and found herself choking back a sob.

The phone started its dance across the desk again and Santana forced her body to move towards it. If she didn't answer soon Brittany might very well invite herself over to check up on her. The thought of Brittany or anyone seeing her like this was alarming enough to allow her to stumble to the desk and type a brief response to the half dozen worried messages. Santana was never sick and almost never missed school. Brittany was only acting like any best friend would.

"Sorry B. Feeling punk. Don't come over- don't want you to get sick too."

Santana knew if she asked Brittany would be over as fast as she could, and it wasn't like her best friend hadn't seen her vulnerable before, but she couldn't handle the idea of _anyone _knowing what had happened- knowing that she'd been weak and helpless and that it was her own damn fault. Besides, Brittany had left the party early last night with Artie at Santana's insistence that she was perfectly fine by herself and didn't need a baby-sitter. Truthfully, Santana just couldn't stand to see the two of them together anymore, but she knew that Brittany would feel guilty for leaving her if she found out.

Santana dropped her phone back on the desk and pulled the alarm clock's cord from the wall on her way to the bathroom. She stopped in the doorway, her mind rebelling again at the thought of removing her clothes or catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. As long as she didn't see herself or acknowledge her current disarray she could remain in a weird semi-state of denial. She thought faintly that she should be tearing at her clothes and scrubbing her skin raw. Isn't that what they did on TV- desperate to get clean?

Instead she seemed to take refuge in inertia. If she stayed still enough her body began to feel like something that no longer belonged to her. It became something foreign, detached, and detachment was safe.

She wasn't sure how long she stood in the doorway to her bathroom, but the faint buzzing of the phone behind her brought her back to herself again, made her picture Brittany's sweet face and Santana clung to that image with every fiber of her being as she stripped the torn clothes from her body and stepped under the hot spray of the shower.

The water stung the raw places on her body and that pain was an excellent catalyst for dispelling the fog of shock that had been clouding her mind. Santana felt herself clenching her teeth against the sting and in place of the shock came a sense of detachment that was altogether different than before- this felt cold. This felt almost comfortable, familiar. Before Santana had opened herself up to Brittany this was how she had felt almost all the time. To her surprise there was less damage to this part of herself than she would have thought since she had cast it aside in her attempt to bare her heart and win over Brittany. Santana could feel the numbness and anger settling back into their familiar places in her chest, doing their job to keep any other emotions at bay.

Whereas minutes before she probably would have been a blubbering mess as she washed the dried white substance from her thighs, fingers brushing bruises and the faint red spots where she'd bled, instead there was nothing.

There was nothing, because nothing happened.

So she'd fucked a couple of guys last night. She'd been drunk out of her mind, downing shot after shot in a desperate attempt to push a certain blonde from her head, and she'd fucked some guys. No big deal, nothing she hadn't done before.

That's all it was- after all you couldn't rape a girl who never said 'no,' right?

_All reviews, comments, and critiques are welcomed with open arms. Thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for all the kind reviews so far. Enjoy.__ =)_

Santana took a deep breath as she pulled her car into the McKinley High parking lot the next morning. She checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror once more out of habit. Perfect- her mad skills with concealer and a make-up brush left no traces of the previous day's tears, the sleepless night, or the faint marks made by fingertips where someone's hand had been pressed too tightly over her mouth. She gave her image a quick nod in approval and swung open the car door. Usually she picked Brittany up on her way to school, but she'd gotten a ride with Quinn today, unsure whether Santana would be feeling better enough to come in.

Santana was late, as usual, so the lot and walkway were empty. It was for that reason only that she allowed herself to pause before the doors. She shoved a brief feeling of panic that rose up in her throat down to around the vicinity of her knees. No weakness in these halls. In this building, Santana was a queen.

She'd discovered an overwhelming resurgence of anger yesterday when she'd renewed her 'I don't give a fuck' attitude. She'd found herself becoming unreasonably angry at simple things: the way the cleaning lady had hummed under her breath as she swept the kitchen floor- when for the life of her Santana couldn't figure out what the hell she had to be so happy about, the woman made five dollars an hour scrubbing floors for other people in houses she could only dream about living in; or the way all the couples on TV seemed so god-damned perfect for each other and that there was no problem that couldn't be solved in an hour, their tinny laughter grating on her nerves like sandpaper on an open wound.

She wasn't sure she'd felt quite this angry before, but considering the last few weeks when her declaration of love and subsequent disappointment had left her feeling more sad than angry, she figured she must have just forgotten what it felt like.

With only a few minutes of first period left Santana wasted time at her locker touching up her mascara instead of going to class. The bell brought a rush of bodies into the hallway and Brittany appeared at her side.

"Hey, you're not sick anymore, right?"

"Nope, I'm all better." Santana glanced at her out of the corners of her eyes, waiting to see if Brittany's sometimes surprisingly astute observational skills would pick up anything.

"Good. I don't like it when you're not here. Yesterday I couldn't remember my locker combination and all my books were trapped inside. I'm worried they'll become clusterphobic."

Santana smiled in relief, test passed. "I think you mean claustrophobic."

"You think my books are going to be afraid of closets? Well, lockers are kind of like closets…" Brittany trailed off, deep in thought.

"Why didn't your boy toy on wheels help you? Isn't that what boyfriends are supposed to do?" The thought of Artie coming to the rescue had her feeling pissed off again.

"He doesn't know the combination either. You've always been here to know it for me."

Santana hardened herself against the guilt she felt. It was true; she'd always been there for Brittany- remembering her locker combination, her class schedule, keeping the assholes that were so quick to call the blonde 'stupid' away. But she needed to step back. She'd been painfully honest, poured her heart out in a crowded hallway, and her best friend had chosen someone else to love back.

"Yeah, well, I'm not always going to be here Brittany. Maybe it's time you had McWheelchair help you out. I don't see why I should do all the work when he's the one you chose to be with."

She grabbed her books for next period and slammed her locker door shut. Unable to stand the hurt look on Brittany's face, Santana sighed. "Look, I'll see you at lunch, okay? I have to go to class." She turned and walked away, leaving Brittany standing in the hall staring after her.

Santana refused to let her hard attitude go; even for Brittany- her soft spot for the blonde was dangerous. It was as if there was a growing scream building inside her and if she let herself go soft at all, even for a minute, she wasn't sure she would be able hold it in.

Santana did nothing productive, academically speaking, in her next few classes, but she did manage to make three people cry, so she called the morning a win. By the time lunch came around, Brittany seemed to have forgiven her for her earlier outburst and was waiting for her at their usual table.

Brittany could tell something was off about her friend. Usually by this point she'd be describing in detail all the stupid things she'd seen people doing at the party the other night- cataloging for potential blackmail, but Santana had yet to say anything about it.

"Anything good happen after I left the other night?" Brittany asked in an attempt to draw her out. "I saw you talking to that hot senior who just transferred in on my way out…What's his name again? Byron? Brendan?"

Santana couldn't help stiffening up at the mention of his name, the sound of his voice echoing in her ear, '_I heard you were the school slut, willing to open your legs for anyone. Let's see if you're as good as they say…'_

"Him," she found herself saying out loud, spitting the word like acid from her tongue, letting her venomous tone hide the tremor in her voice and soothe the sick feeling in her stomach, "He's a loser. He's friends with that asshole who always wears the camouflage shirts like he's in the army or something. They're both losers. I don't understand how they got invited to that party in the first place."

Brittany squinted her eyes in Santana's direction. She still couldn't put her finger on what exactly seemed different about her today, but Santana had put her blank bitch face on and her eyes were unreadable.

"I thought they seemed kind of nice. They got me a drink when Artie was in the bathroom."

Santana whipped her head towards her, her eyes fierce. "Stay away from them Brittany. Seriously, they're assholes. If they ever try to give you a drink again you come get me and I'll tell them where they can stick it."

Brittany just nodded at Santana's tone, any response she might have had cut off by the bell.

Santana stood up from the lunch table and dumped her untouched tray into the garbage, welcoming any reason to end the conversation, and left her friend with a 'talk to you later' tossed over her shoulder as she left the cafeteria.

Brittany made her way over to where Artie had been sitting with Mercedes and Tina. Artie had gotten to the cafeteria a little later than usual and had taken one look at Santana's face before deciding to join the other Glee kids. He knew Santana and Brittany had a very close and complicated friendship and he'd been dating Brittany long enough now to know when to give them space. He smiled at Brittany and reached out to hold her hand, hoping to make her smile and erase the sad, confused look from her face.

"Hey."

"Hey, Artie," Brittany said, wheeling him from the cafeteria into the crowded hallways, "Santana said to give this to you." She handed him a small slip of paper with her locker combination written on it. "She said since you're my boyfriend you should help me remember my combination if I forget it again."

Artie looked up at her in surprise. Santana deferring help for Brittany to him? It was no secret that she wasn't a fan of their relationship and for her to give him a means to spend more time with Brittany and herself less was strange. But he definitely wasn't stupid, so he smiled up at her. "That's what boyfriends are for."

Santana opened her locker and grabbed the books she needed for the afternoon. The idea of _them _even talking to Brittany made her want to punch someone. She tried to distract herself by daydreaming about various scenarios in which she castrated Brendan and his friend with a dull knife, letting their screams echo in her head as her last few classes blurred into one unremarkable haze.

Glee came around quickly, which usually made her happy, but today Santana found herself grinding her teeth against the bubblegum sweetness of Rachel and Finn singing their new duet. She wanted to punch them both in the face just to make them shut up. She didn't understand what was going on. Sure, a lot of the Glee kids annoyed the hell out of her, but this was her safe place, one of the few places she let herself feel happy. All of a sudden, every positive comment and life lesson quip tossed about made her want to scream. So instead, she did what she knew best and insulted every person in the room, except Brittany. And then to top it off she picked a fight between Puck and Lauren after insinuating that Puck had been sexting her last night during the girl's wrestling match. It didn't actually make her feel any better, but at least now they had turned down the volume on their optimism. Santana had never been so relieved for Glee to be over. She ignored the glares sent in her direction and the slightly worried look on Brittany's face as she left the room.

"Jesus," Kurt said after she'd left, "I haven't heard that level of bitch in a while. What the hell is her problem?"

All eyes turned to Brittany in question, assuming she would have some insight into her best friend's behavior. Brittany shrugged, her eyes on the floor, and it was clear that she was as in the dark about Santana's attitude as the rest of them.

Brittany was well and truly worried now. She knew Santana as only a few people did and while she was always a bitch, this level of acidity was usually an indication that something bad was going down in her life. Santana didn't seem to get sad, instead she got mad—and right now she seemed pissed.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Thanks again for the reviews so far. Remember critiques are welcome too. If you think I could expand on something or have any suggestions I'd love to hear them._

Santana dropped her backpack on the floor of her room. The evening yawned a black hole before her. There was no way she was going to be able to sit here tonight, alone. She knew without a doubt that if she did, she'd do something violent. Whereas only yesterday, inactivity had been her friend it now served only to allow her time to feel the rage and disgust filling up her body. 'Fuck that,' she thought to herself as she scrolled though the contacts on her phone. It only took a few texts to discover that there was a party tonight in a neighboring town. Santana was going to go get her drink on and let the deafening music and inane pick up lines distract her from herself for the night.

It took no time at all for her to change into a tight black top and skinny jeans. She ran some mousse and a blow dryer through her hair and darkened the make-up around her eyes. One pair of low-heeled sandals later and she was ready.

It took twenty minutes to get herself to the party. She could feel the bass vibrating in her stomach twenty feet from the house. She knew the chances were slim that she'd run into anyone from McKinley here and that thought brought a smile to her face. She didn't need anyone holding her back tonight.

The current party was being hosted by a bunch of frat boys from the community college, if you would even consider a group of drunk idiots from a community college 'frat boys.' They had the moves down though: huge house full of wasted college boys and equally wasted high school girls- check; music so loud you couldn't hear the person standing next to you even when they yelled-check; disgusting kitchen piled high with cheap wine, cheap beer and empty pizza boxes- check. Yes, the perfect recipe for Santana to get wasted off her ass.

And she proceeded to do just that. A few shots of Cuervo and she was feeling fuzzy, a few more of cheap whiskey and she found herself on the dance floor surrounded by a group of guys who seemed unable to take their eyes from her sinuous body. The weight of their stares caused fingers of panic to flare in her stomach and drove her from the dance floor in search of more booze. Half a bottle of vodka later and Santana was just barely aware of making out with some meathead and stumbling upstairs to pass out in someone's bedroom. Usually she went to parties like this with Brittany or at least when Puck was around and it would be at this point that whoever was the least drunk would scrape the other off the floor and call a taxi home. She and Brittany usually kept each other safe from falling unconscious into a stranger's bed and waking up to wandering hands belonging to some guy who had more alcohol than blood running through his veins and thinking your choosing his room to pass out in was in some way an invitation for him to grope you.

Unfortunately, she'd chosen this party because she knew no one there, so when she blinked her eyes open in the predawn hours to find some asshole's hand on her ass, she had no one to blame but herself. Again. Thankfully, the hand's owner was snoring away and didn't even twitch when Santana threw the offending appendage off her butt and stumbled out the door. She took mental stock of herself and the fact that her clothes were still intact and properly placed was a good sign that nothing else had happened while she was passed out. The possibilities of what could have gone down came too easy to her mind and Santana found herself forcing down the bile that rose in her throat with a steely resolve. She was pretty much sober and she only had a few hours to get home and change before school started, so she made her way to her car and let her mind go on auto-pilot for the drive home.

She pulled up to her empty house a little while later. She wasn't sure exactly where her parents were- working odd hours or gone on vacation- both scenarios left her in the same place, unlocking a door at five in the morning with no one to care that she'd been gone all night.

Santana grabbed a shower, a change of clothes and a few gulps from the vodka bottle she kept stashed next to her bed. She was well aware of how shitty she was going to feel in a few hours when the rest of the alcohol wore off and the hangover kicked in. She was going to put that off as long as she could, and if that meant going to school a bit tipsy, so be it. Wouldn't be the first time.

The circles under her eyes took a bit more work to cover this morning, but by the time she needed to leave she considered herself presentable. The school day was predictably uneventful, but unfortunately the growing headache and sleepless night left Santana lashing out at everyone who had the misfortune of crossing her path. She'd actually been inches away from shoving some freshman who was walking too slowly in front of her into the nearby lockers when Brittany fell in step beside her.

"Where were you last night? I tried calling you. Lord Tubbington learned to do the hula and he wanted to show you." Brittany said. She was constantly trying to get Santana and Lord Tubbington to be friends, but the cat had taken an irrational dislike to the Latina. For her part, Santana kept her distance whenever he was in the room. She actually liked cats in theory. They weren't as needy as dogs (and boys), and they didn't need to be taken outside at the butt-crack of dawn when there was five feet of snow on the ground to shit. Cats came over when they wanted attention and then left when they were done. Nothing to find fault with there. So why Brittany's cat constantly clawed at her when she got too close and ran from her approaching footsteps was a mystery.

"Sorry, I got bored and went to a party over in Findlay," Santana said, losing interest in the freshman.

"Oh, well maybe you want to come over tonight and see? Artie's spending the evening with the boys at Finn's, so I thought we could have a girl night." Her voice lowered, "I miss you."

"I'm right here Brittany, I see you all the time." Santana snapped, "And while it's nice to know I'm good enough to hang out with when the cripple is busy, I actually have plans for the night." She didn't really, but she wasn't about to admit that to Brittany.

Instead of looking hurt, Brittany looked even more concerned that she had yesterday, "Are you all right, San? You look kind of tired, and you're only this mean to me when something really bad has happened. I'm your best friend, you can tell me."

Brittany had always had the uncanny ability to see through the bitch, it was one of the big reasons why they'd become friends in the first place, but right now that ability was completely unwelcome.

"Actually Brittany, that's bullshit. If you were really my best friend you would have dumped no-legs in a second, but you didn't. So, thanks for the concern _friend, _but I'd prefer it if you mind your own business."

And for the second time in as many days Santana left her best friend standing alone in the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

The next week went by in a similar way. Santana found a party to attend almost every night and on the few that she didn't she did an excellent job of drinking herself into oblivion alone. Drinking alone was, however, proving more dangerous than passing out at strange parties. When she was alone she often found herself standing naked in front of the mirror in the bathroom, a bottle of liquor in her hand, staring at the fading bruises on her body. When that happened, it didn't matter how drunk she was, she seemed unable to fight off the disgust she felt at her own image. She wished she could peel her skin off and rinse everything that was inside out. She couldn't help but feel like she was carrying some poisonous disease under her skin. Her body, usually a point of pride and a weapon to be used against the opposite sex, had become something ugly and weak. At this point she would usually finish off whatever bottle was in her hands and turn her music up until it drowned out any other thoughts until she passed out.

Santana was more vicious than ever in her taunts and insults at school and there appeared to be a magic bubble surrounding her as she moved though the halls that made people take a step back out of her way, as though they could feel the tension building in her like a fuse and were terrified to be near her when it blew.

Things seemed to have reached their melting point in Glee as well. Santana's verbal lashes at the other members, her poor attitude during rehearsals, and her continued failure to prepare any songs for Mr. Schue's assignments were becoming too much.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Rachel who eventually called her out on it, or even Mr. Schue, but Puck. Probably because he was the only one with enough balls to do so besides Brittany, and even she'd found herself stepping back from Santana lately after continuous brush offs and unreturned phone calls.

"What the hell is your problem, Santana?" Puck demanded, turning in his chair to face her. "If you're going to have such a shitty attitude, why show up at all?"

Mr. Schue opened his mouth, most likely to lecture Puck on his language, but Santana cut him off before he could even start.

"You're right, Puck," she said, standing from her back row seat, venom dripping from her words, "I don't know why I'm here. I don't need this shit. You don't want me here, I'm gone. You only had to say so. So fuck you and fuck the rest of you too!"

She could see Brittany rise from her chair out of the corner of her eye and hear Mr. Schue begin his, 'No, we do want you here- that's not what he meant,' as she started out of the room.

She stopped cold as a hand grabbed her wrist, the tight grip causing another time when hands had held her too tightly to flash in her mind, the ever-present rage bubbling over in an instant, and she spun around swinging. There was no warning to her violence and Puck didn't even have time to let go of her wrist before her fist connected with his face.

He howled in pain, his hands coming up to cup his jaw and wipe the blood from his split lip. "What the fuck, Santana!"

They stared at each other, Santana's eyes wide, her chest heaving, her fists clenched at her sides, while Puck looked back at her in shock. She could feel the residual panic and rage humming through her body like adrenaline. It wasn't the first time she'd hit Puck and it probably wouldn't be the last, but it was the first time she'd scared herself with her violence. It wouldn't have mattered whose hand had reached out to stop her, it could have just as easily been someone else, and the image of Brittany's bloody face in place of Puck's had her running from the room before anyone could stop her.

The rest of Glee club sat in shocked silence before Mr. Schue and Sam stepped forward to check on Puck. He shrugged off their concern with a sharp, "I'm fine." Mr. Schue half turned towards the door, planning to follow Santana when Brittany's voice stopped him.

"Mr. Schue, maybe you should let me go."

Will knew he should let Brittany go, knew that they were best friends, but New Directions was his responsibility and he needed to try to figure out what was going on for himself.

"I need to make sure she's okay, Brittany. I'll be right back. Finn, go get Puck some ice for his lip, okay?" Mr. Schue said and started down the hallway after Santana. He caught up with her as she opened her car door.

"Santana! Stop for a minute!"

He caught her car door as she started to pull it shut.

"What?" she practically screamed back at him.

Will stared hard at her, "What's going on?"

Santana scoffed at him and tried to pull the door shut again, but Mr. Schue held on tight, much to her annoyance. "Seriously, Santana, you punched Puck in the face. That's not like you. Insulting him, okay, but I've never seen you hit anyone. Are you alright?"

Santana turned towards him, the look of anger on her face almost making him take a step back.

"How do you know that's not like me, huh, butt chin? That happens to be at least the fourth time I've punched Puck, so fuck off and leave me alone. Your concern is misplaced and seriously irritating so take it to someone who cares, okay?" Santana grabbed the door handle with both hands and yanked it from Will's grasp, ignoring the sad, disappointed look on his face. She threw the car into reverse and drove away from the only people who actually cared about her with a squeal of rubber tires.

Will stood in the parking lot wincing at the sound. He'd be the first to admit that he didn't know much about Santana beyond the rumors that circulated the school: that her dad was a rich doctor, that she had a reputation for sleeping around, and that most people at McKinley were scared of her. He'd heard and witnessed himself on several occasions how much of a bitch Santana could be, but most of the time he got to see her smiling along with the rest of the glee club, passionate about the music and enjoying herself. He'd sort of noticed in the last week or so that she wasn't smiling as much and had started lashing out at the kids in glee club again, but if he was honest with himself, he didn't really pay much attention to her. He hadn't seen _this_ coming.

He walked back into a quiet rehearsal room. Puck was glaring around the ice pack at everyone who looked his way, Quinn and Artie were trying to calm down Brittany, who looked on the verge of tears, and everyone else just looked kind of shell-shocked.

All eyes were on him as he closed the door, "Puck, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Puck growled. He was mad and embarrassed that Santana had punched him in front of everyone else, but most of all he was worried. He'd seen the look in her eyes after she'd hit him and he knew it would take a lot to put that look into Santana's eyes. He'd known Santana for a long time, and despite their rocky on-again, off-again relationship, they were friends. It made him want to track down whatever was responsible for hurting her and hope it was something he could beat to a pulp.

"Does anyone know what's going on with Santana? "Will asked the group.

Everyone just shook their heads in silence for a minute, at a loss, until Rachel, being Rachel, spoke up, "Well, I know we're all worried about Santana, but she clearly wasn't enjoying being here this last week. If she wants to quit, that's her choice and I think we need to get back to practicing. We can't let Santana and her dramas distract us right now." Eleven pairs of eyes turned to stare at her with varying degrees of disgust, even Lauren, who hated Santana more than most thought the remark was cold.

Will clapped his hands once, "Rachel's right, guys. There isn't anything we can do for Santana right now besides be here for her when she comes back, but we can get focused on next year's sectionals." Heads were nodded in grudging agreement, but the rehearsal that followed was definitely half-hearted.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: This chapter contains self-injury. I didn't really mean for the story to go here, but it did. It's not too graphic and won't be a feature of remaining chapters, but if you think it could be triggering, it might be best to skip the end.

Chapter 4

If someone had told her, Santana probably wouldn't have believed the glee club was so worried about her. Brittany, yes, maybe a few others, but she was pretty sure the rest of them hated her. She had no idea where she was going as she drove away from the school, but somehow found herself on the entrance ramp to the highway, foot pushing the gas pedal to the floor. She turned the radio up until the windows were vibrating and let her mind go with the speed and sound. A little voice in the back of her head was protesting her recklessness, but the music was doing a good job of drowning it out. How she managed to wind up without getting a speeding ticket was a mystery, but a few hours later she finally felt calm enough to turn around and head back home. By the time she pulled up to her house it was full-on night and she wasn't at all surprised when her headlights illuminated a familiar figure sitting on her front steps. She would recognize that body from a mile away.

She almost backed out of the driveway again, but she knew that no matter how long she stayed away, Brittany was going to be there waiting for her when she returned. She got out of her car slowly, trying to mentally prepare herself for the fight- err, _conversation_ that she knew was about to take place. Her behavior today was extreme enough for Brittany to ignore the fact that Santana had told her repeatedly the last few days to leave her the hell alone. She was expecting worry, hurt, maybe a little anger and so was seriously unprepared for the serious look and direct gaze pointed her way as she approached the front door.

Brittany watched her best friend walk towards her, really seeing for the first time how much she'd changed in the last week. She'd lost weight, she looked exhausted and there was an almost desperate anger that radiated off her in waves. Santana ignored her, stepping around her to unlock the front door. She didn't go so far as to slam it in her face as Brittany followed her inside, but the blonde couldn't remember ever feeling so unwelcome in Santana's house before.

It was clear Santana wasn't going to be the one to start this conversation and Brittany found herself trailing behind the other girl as she did her best to freeze her out. The second line of The Santana Lopez Defense- if biting insults and intimidation didn't work, she would freeze you out until you went away. Brittany had seen it in action plenty of times, but never towards herself.

They made it to Santana's bedroom before Brittany stepped in close and without a word wrapped her arms around her friend. Santana went rigid and found herself shaking with the effort to hold herself in check and NOT break down crying in Brittany's arms. She shoved the other girl away with such strength that Brittany had to take a step back to catch her balance.

"Santana, stop," Brittany said quietly, "Tell me what's going on. Please."

Santana could feel her fingernails digging into the skin of her palms in an attempt to bring herself under control. Brittany was making it really hard to keep hold of the anger and Santana could feel the press of emotion rising up in her chest. She needed to get rid of her and fast.

"Santana-"

"No," Santana said, trying to make her voice as cold as possible. If she broke apart right now, she wasn't sure she'd be able to pick up the pieces, so she went straight for what she knew would hurt Brittany the most. "I don't know how I've been able to put up with you for so long, but I'm not telling you anything. You're too stupid to understand, and as of this moment, we are no longer friends. So please leave."

She could feel her nails break through her skin and her jaw ached with the strength it took to keep her mouth shut and not scream out that she didn't mean it as the blonde took another step backwards with a gasp. She started to protest, but the look on Santana's face had her shutting her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes as she hung her head and walked to the door.

Brittany paused for a second in the doorway and spoke quietly through the tears running down her face, "I'll never stop being your friend, Santana. Never."

Santana clenched her jaw even tighter and closed her eyes against the tears starting to run down her face. She didn't move until she heard the front door close behind Brittany, then she threw herself towards her bed with a strangled cry, frantically reaching for the vodka bottle. She gulped down almost a quarter of the bottle before stopping for air. It didn't take much to get Santana drunk the last few days, the knot in her stomach kept her from eating most of the time and with such little food the alcohol went straight to her head. She sat on the edge of her bed, sucking in air, trying to get a handle on herself, when she felt a faint sting across the back of her hand. She must have scraped it against the side of the headboard when she was reaching for the bottle, but she paused for a second as she focused on the stinging of her hand and realized that the pain of it calmed her down a little bit. She poked at the cut, feeling her shoulders relax a little more.

It took no time at all before she was digging through the bathroom drawers for the box of safety pins she remembered tossing in last year. She took another swig of vodka before bending one of the pins open and dragging it roughly across the inside of her forearm. She had to press hard for any blood to show up, but that was okay. It was more about the pain anyway, and the sense of calm she could feel spreading through her body, than the blood. That was just a bonus. Santana felt light headed as she pressed the pin to her skin again, the feeling of release that she'd been denying herself making her dizzy.

She sank to the floor of her bathroom in a daze, lazily sipping on the bottle now until she was drunk enough to stumble back to her bed and pass out.  
>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<p>

Brittany drove home through a haze of tears. She knew in her heart that Santana hadn't meant what she'd said, but that didn't stop the words from hurting anyway. She never would have left if she'd known what Santana was about to do, but the look on her best friend's face had scared her. Santana had looked like she was on the verge of shattering and Brittany didn't want to be the reason for pushing her over the edge. Santana had always been the strong one, cool and tough. She rarely let Brittany see how much things affected her and only then because Brittany knew her well enough to see when she was upset, but tonight it would have been obvious to anyone that she was having trouble holding it together. Santana was her best friend and if she thought she couldn't let her in Brittany wasn't going to make it harder on her by pushing and risk driving her away. The best she could do was be there for Santana when she finally decided to talk, or finally fell apart.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Two chapters today! It felt wrong to break them up, but I wanted to keep the chapters more or less the same in length, so instead I'm just posting two at once. Thank you for all the reviews. I'm glad people are enjoying it. I had the rest of the story pretty much written out, but I got a suggestion today for a scene I hadn't thought to include and I'd like to try and find a place for it, so the next few updates might not be as quick as they have been... 

Chapter 5

Santana woke up the next morning feeling rougher than usual. Her temples were pounding and the mere act of lifting her head had her stumbling to the toilet to vomit. Digging through the medicine cabinet for aspirin she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she started for a second, not recognizing the face staring back at her. She couldn't remember a time she'd ever looked this bad. Her skin was pale, her eyes sunken and surrounded by dark circles, her hair dull and flat. Santana turned away from the mirror, wincing at the pain of the movement. She avoided her image as best she could until she found the aspirin, and washed them down with a handful of water from the faucet, ignoring the slight sting from the scratches that were already fading on her arms.

She couldn't forget the look on Brittany's face last night when she'd told her they were no longer friends. She'd made it her mission in life to do what she could to keep anyone from hurting Brittany the way she had last night, and the guilt of it was almost more than she could handle. She'd never realized that someone could become as disgusted with themselves as she had this last week. She needed to do something to take her power back. She needed to prove to herself that she was in control, and she knew the perfect person to help her do it.

Santana spent most of the morning getting ready to put her plan into action. She took her time picking out a tight red dress and heels, fixing her hair so it hung down her back in sexy curls, and doing what she could with make-up to hide the effects of what was ultimately a week long binge. She made it to school just after lunch, doing her best to avoid Brittany or anyone from Glee. She felt like a panther hunting its prey and she found herself reveling in the feeling, pulling it tight around her. The little voice in the back of her head was protesting again, but Santana was having none of it. She was going to do this. A feral smile stole over her face and she could feel the eyes turning to stare at her as she walked towards the boy's locker room.

Puck had been skipping lunch every Wednesday to buy pot from Sandy Ryerson for almost a year now, and true to form she found him sitting on a bench behind the last row of lockers sampling his new stash. So predictable. He looked up in surprise as Santana sauntered towards him.

He knew that walk, knew what the look on her face meant. It meant that Santana had chosen a target and it was a rare man who walked away without giving her what she wanted. He knew because he'd been on the receiving end of that look before, but as she moved in closer he couldn't help but remember the look in her eyes the day before and the difference between then and now was unnerving. He stood up and offered her the blunt he'd been smoking, uneasy.

"Come to try Sandy's latest batch?" he asked with a smirk, "I'll even—"

Santana cut off his words with a manicured finger to his lips. She stepped closer, her body pressing against his.

"No talking."

"Look Santana," he started, words catching as she rocked her hips forward. He bit back a groan, feeling his body respond to hers. In two steps she'd backed him up against the lockers, her fingers trailing down his chest and stopping between his legs.

"No… talking."

Santana had chosen Puck for the simple reason that he was easy to control. She knew all his triggers and she knew he couldn't say no to her. Even if he was dating Lauren, fuck, especially since he was dating Lauren. She smiled slowly as she wrapped her hand around him, squeezing slightly.

Puck closed his eyes before bringing his hand down to hers. He couldn't deny that it felt good and that his body was all for what she had in mind, but despite what she obviously thought, he was serious about being faithful to Lauren, and not only because she could kick his ass. He pushed her hand away, even though the action took more effort than he would have liked to admit.

Santana frowned at him, "What? Are you still mad at me for punching you?" She dropped her voice to a purr, "I'm here to kiss it all better." She rose up on her toes to kiss the sensitive spot just below his ear, making sure that he could feel the rest of her body rub against him with the movement.

She had him right where she wanted him, hardening against her stomach, with her calling the shots.

It took almost all the control Puck had over himself to push her away again.

"No Santana. I have a girlfriend."

Santana glared at him for a second, "So, it's not like this would be the first time you cheated on a girlfriend with me."

"I'm a one-woman man now. My lady gives me everything I need."

Santana curled her lips in disgust, "First off, eww. Second, you know I can give you what you need better than Rolls-A-Plenty. C'mon, admit that you miss this body." She leaned into him again, making slow circles with her hips against his.

"No, Santana," Puck said pushing her away for the third time.

Santana shoved him hard against the lockers. This was not how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to be in control and Puck was supposed to be squirming in her hand, thankful that she was willing to fuck him. Unwilling to admit defeat, she found herself throwing her body against his and her mouth to his lips aggressively, the pressure splitting his healing lip open again. The taste of blood in her mouth had her stomach rolling but before she could back away Puck had spun her around, holding her against the lockers now.

"God damn it, Santana!" he said, holding her shoulders to the lockers and away from himself.

Santana barely heard him, interested only in getting his hands off her shoulders and the blood from her lips. She twisted her body in his grasp and the desperation on her face had Puck looking hard at her.

"Seriously, what the hell is going on with you?"

"Fuck you Puckerman," Santana ground out, still trying to loosen his hold on her, "If you don't want me that's your loss. Have fun humping your whale, because this is the last time you'll ever get an offer from me." With another violent twist of her shoulders she finally broke free from him and practically ran to the bathroom.

Puck stood at a loss staring after her.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Santana spit a mouthful of water into the sink for the tenth time, the phantom taste of blood still leaving a coppery tang on her tongue.

Stupid, fucking Puck. Weak-ass, pussy-whipped, cocksucker. She never dreamed he'd turn her down. She met her own eyes in the mirror, the anger at least putting some color back into her cheeks. If he wouldn't man up, she'd find someone who would. Almost every guy in this school would jump for a chance to sleep with her. Determined to find someone else to serve her needs she shoved the bathroom door open and started down the hall.

She hadn't made it more than a few steps when a voice behind her stopped her cold.

"Looking hot today, Santana. Tell me you didn't dress up just for me?"

Brendan.

Her heart pounded in her ears and she realized she'd spent so much time with Puck and in the bathroom she'd missed the rest of her normal lunch period. Because there were so many students and the school was too cheap to have a bigger cafeteria the lunches were split up- freshman and juniors eating first and sophomores and seniors second. It was a big reason why she'd been able to avoid seeing Brendan and his friend.

She could hear his friend, Steve, snicker at his comment, her legs frozen even though her mind was screaming at her to run. Suddenly his hands were on her waist, pulling her against him and it was enough to break her from her stupor. She spun towards him as he chuckled and the sound was like someone throwing a switch in her head. She launched herself towards him with a snarl, her nails raking deep grooves across his face, knee scoring a hit to his balls that had him hitting the floor. It felt good to see him drop, the familiar rage surging through her veins, but before she could hit him again a strong pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her arms at her side. Stupid army boy. She struggled wildly in his arms, feet kicking behind her hoping to get a lucky hit. She knew how strong he was, knew how unlikely it was that she would be able to get away now.

When she'd gone up to that empty bedroom to make out with Brendan he'd been the one waiting. He'd been the one to slam the door shut and stand in her way when she told them she wasn't into threesomes and tried to leave. He'd been the one to hold her hands above her head and his hand over her mouth while Brendan had ripped her clothes off and pounded into her. He'd also been the one to climb on top of her when Brendan was finished and take a turn for himself.

She watched, trembling with fear and rage, as Brendan picked himself up off the floor and wiped at the blood that was dripping down the side of his face. He took a step toward her, his face a nasty combination of smug fury.

"Didn't you learn your lesson the first time, bitch?" He closed the space between them, delighted with the way Santana's body tensed away from his, "Fighting is no use."

Glaring at him Santana's eyes darted down the hall. Where the hell was everyone else? These halls were never empty. Trapped between the two bodies she opened her mouth to yell for help and Brendan took the opportunity to cover her mouth with his own, muffling the sound. He rolled his hips against her, deepening the kiss. The second Santana felt his tongue brush her own she clamped down with her teeth. Brendan tore away from her with a scream, holding a hand over his bloody mouth, trying to curse around his injured tongue. Santana took advantage of the distraction to throw her head back, catching Steve in the nose. His arms loosened their grip just enough for Santana to break free and turn to land a well placed kick to his balls as well before taking off down the hall. She ran blindly, not realizing she was headed for the glee room until she got there. The lunch bell rang again and she could hear the voices of students filling the hallways. She wondered how Brendan and Steve were going to explain their injuries or if they had run away to nurse their wounds in private. In any case, the people in the hallway made it less likely that they would try to follow her.

She looked around the room at the piano and familiar maroon chairs, but instead of bringing comfort the sight of them brought a scream to her throat. She hated that fucking piano and those stupid chairs, and the god damn dry erase board and the fucking drum set, and all the memories of dancing around singing stupid ass songs and the fact that this room wasn't hers anymore. She hated Puck for turning her down and Brittany for choosing Artie and her parents for never being around and Brendan and Steve for taking her power away from her and herself for not being strong enough to stop it. A strange buzzing sound rose in her ears.

She didn't even realize that she'd moved across the room until she lifted the first chair in her hands and hurled it at the drums. They fell over with a satisfying clatter, the next chair aimed at the white board. The third crashed into the wall and the fourth missed the piano by a mile due to the tears now streaming down her face. She threw the next chair with a roar of rage. By the time she reached the back row of chairs- her chair- her body was shaking with sobs. She lifted the chair, determined to have at least one hit the damn piano when a pair of hands gently covered hers and took the chair from her grasp.

With nothing left to hold on to Santana dropped to the floor, the anger disappearing and leaving the way open for all the emotions she'd spent the last week fighting so hard against.

Will lowered himself down next to Santana and reached out a hand to touch her shoulder.

"Santana?"

_I know that's probably a mean place to stop too, but I promise the next chapter will be up soon and it's already a little longer than these have been. I hope you liked this chapter, I couldn't resist giving Santana the chance to kick their butts just a little. =)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Here's an extra long chapter- I hope you like it._

Chapter 7

"Santana?"

If the girl could hear him she made no sign of it. Will's heart was still pounding from his sprint down the hallway. One of the seniors coming from lunch had run into his classroom and told him someone was trashing the choir room. Will hadn't even hesitated before running down the hallway leaving his class blinking after him in surprise. The same student had followed him back and now stood wide-eyed in the doorway. Will looked over at him, his face pinched with worry.

"Go tell Principal Figgins that I had an emergency and need someone to cover my class immediately, but don't tell him why."

He didn't need the principal coming down here right now. The boy nodded in understanding. Will called out again just as the boy turned to leave.

"Hey, do you know Brittany Pierce?"

"Yeah."

"Could you get her and tell her to come here right away?"

"Sure."

The boy darted off down the hallway and Will turned back to Santana. He called her name several times, trying to get her attention, but the girl continued to ignore him, sobbing quietly her face in her hands, leaving Will feeling helpless.

He was relieved when he looked up to see Brittany in the doorway taking in the sight of the room and her friend with a clarity and understanding that surprised him. If anyone could get through to Santana the she was it.

She was at Santana's side in less than a second, pulling the smaller girl into her lap.

"San? Hey, it's me, Brit. Can you hear me?" She asked softly, stroking her friend's hair back from her face. She tilted Santana's chin up until their eyes met and Will saw Santana blink in recognition before burying her face in Brittany's shoulder, crying harder than before.

"It's okay, it's okay, shhh," Brittany mumbled into her hair, "I'm here. It's okay."

Will got up to close the doors when he realized there were still a few students loitering in the hallway. Santana didn't need anyone else seeing her like this. He already hoped the boy who'd gotten him earlier could keep his mouth shut.

Santana's sobs had slowed to hiccups, but she made no move to leave Brittany's lap.

"Santana?" Will said softly, sitting next to them again. He saw her freeze for a split second before straightening up and looking at him with red, swollen eyes. She slid from Brittany's lap, but stayed pressed against her, clutching her hand.

Brittany made no move to stop the tears that slipped from down her own face at the sight of Santana looking so completely vulnerable.

She'd known the second she'd walked in that her friend had finally fallen apart. She was a little surprised it'd happened so quickly following last night. Knowing how stubborn Santana was she'd been prepared for her to come back to school like nothing had changed and continue to _not_ talk about whatever was happening for at least another week or two.

She watched Santana's eyes flicker from Mr. Schue back to hers before closing, tears spilling from beneath her thick eyelashes in a movement that broke Brittany's heart.

"San," Brittany breathed out, "please tell me what's wrong."

Santana shook her head slowly, her mouth moving silently. She was so tired of trying to deny what happened, so tired of holding everything in, but she couldn't seem to push any sound past the lump in her throat. She still couldn't say it out loud.

Brittany could see her friend struggling for words, "It's okay, San, just take your time. " She thought back to when Santana had started to push her away, "Does this have anything to do with why you were sick last week?"

Santana nodded, her eyes staring brokenly back at her. Brittany took a leap and pushed again, "Does this have anything to do with the party we went to the night before that?" She remembered how Santana hadn't wanted to talk about it.

Santana nodded again, her eyes now on the floor, her grip on Brittany's hand so tight she was beginning to lose feeling in her fingers. Despite popular opinion, Brittany wasn't nearly as stupid or naïve as people thought, not when it came to her best friend, and the puzzle pieces were beginning to fit together. Brittany asked the next question slowly.

"Did something happen with Brendan? After I left?"

Santana pushed to her feet and crossed the room, pressing her forehead to the wall before turning to sink to the floor again, back against the ruined white board.

Will wisely stayed where he was, watching as Brittany followed her slowly, kneeling before her and taking Santana's hand in hers again. He had a feeling he knew where this was going and he was pretty sure Brittany did too.

"Santana, "Brittany whispered, her voice breaking, "did he hurt you? Is that why you told me to stay away from him?"

"Them."

Santana lifted her head to meet Brittany's eyes, her voice raspy from crying, "I told you to stay away from them. Brendan and his friend."

Brittany nodded at her, encouraging her to continue.

"I wasn't strong enough to fight them, I tried I swear, " her eyes begging her to understand, "Santana Lopez doesn't take shit from anyone, right? I'm supposed to be in control, but …god, they…Brittany…"

This was it, it had to come out. Santana knew keeping it a secret was destroying her almost as much as the act itself.

"They raped me." Santana finished in a whisper.

Brittany wrapped her arms around her friend and pulled her close, wishing she hadn't given up on her plans for a time machine so she could go back to that party and save her friend from everything that had happened.

Santana continued, surprising herself, her voice stronger now, the words easier the second time. "They raped me. I was drunk and mad at you for being with Artie and I…I was only going to make out with him, but when we got upstairs his friend was waiting. I told them I wasn't cool with that and tried to leave, but they…they just wouldn't stop. They said they knew I was a slut and that I didn't mean it when I said no. But I did, Britt. I meant it."

"I know you did, San," Brittany said, holding her even tighter, "they were wrong not to listen."

Will's stomach had gone queasy as soon as Santana had started her story and by the end he was fighting back tears of his own. He hated to see anyone, especially one of his kids, going through something so terrible. He wasn't sure if Santana would welcome the comforting hug he wanted to give her, so he took his time approaching the girls.

"Santana, this was not your fault."

Brittany and Santana had been so caught up in each other they'd almost forgotten Will was still in the room. Santana found herself unable to meet his eyes.

She wished he hadn't been there to hear everything; she really didn't want anyone but Brittany to know. If people knew, they'd know she'd been weak, and no one fears the weak. Who would respect her status as school bitch if they knew? Instead of looking at her with fear and awe, they'd look at her with pity- and that was unacceptable.

But she couldn't take the words back and she couldn't make him forget what he'd heard.

So instead she said, "I know. I'm sorry about trashing the room, Mr. Schue."

"It's fine, Santana, it's just stuff. It's replaceable. You're not."

Santana forced her eyes to meet his and was surprised at what she saw there. Sure, there was a bit of pity, some anger, a lot of sadness, but unexpectedly there was something that almost looked like admiration there as well.

Brittany squeezed her hand and Santana turned to see a similar expression on her best friend's face.

Will could see Santana was nervous about his reaction to all this, so he smiled at her, hoping to reassure her that his opinion of her hadn't changed. "I'm proud of you for having the courage to tell us. So many people never do and it eats them up inside. You're stronger than you think Santana."

Santana looked away. She didn't feel courageous, and she knew that if they hadn't caught her in the act of tearing apart the room, she wouldn't have told them a damn thing. She would have had her private break down and then gone back to what she'd been doing before until she snapped again.

Brittany looked around the room at the damage, "Why'd you break up the glee room, San? Those poor drums never hurt anyone."

Santana lifted a shoulder, relieved to hear Brittany sounding more like herself again.

"I don't know. I ran into Brendan and Steve in the hall and we had words."

Will interrupted, "Did they do anything to hurt you?"

Santana shuddered at the memory of Brendan's lips on hers, "Not really. But they can't say the same about me." She smiled, remembering her foot connecting with their balls, the blood on Brendan's face.

"What do you mean?"

"I might have kicked them both in the junk."

Will couldn't help but smile, glad to see a little of the old Santana again.

"Anyway," Santana continued, "I took off before they could get up off the floor and came here. I've missed this place and when I looked around all I could see were the things that I'd lost and I guess I just lost it myself."

She stopped and took a breath. What was she doing, sitting here on the floor spilling her guts to Brittany and Will Schuester, of all people. Santana didn't talk about _feelings_, but somehow she couldn't stop. It was like word vomit and now that she'd started it wouldn't quit until there was nothing left.

"I've just been so mad. I thought I could convince myself that what happened didn't matter and getting angry was easier than…everything else. I love Glee, it used to be the best part of my day, but after it happened I was too mad to let myself be happy. I let them take away the things that made me happy." She turned to Brittany, "I let them take you away. You know I didn't mean anything I said last night, right? I'm so sorry I said those things to you. You make it so hard for me stay angry and I couldn't handle it."

Brittany nodded, "I know you didn't mean it. I forgive you Santana. I meant what I said, I'll never stop being your friend- even when you're mean to me."

This time it was Santana wrapping her arms around Brittany. "I love you."

"I love you too San."

Will cleared his throat, pretty sure he was hearing more than he was supposed to.

"Santana, you know you're welcome back in Glee club anytime you want, "Will said, "You haven't lost us."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue, but I'm not sure everyone else would agree with you. I've been pretty horrible to them- especially Puck," Santana cringed as she thought about the afternoon's events in the locker room.

"I think they'll be more forgiving than you think, especially when you explain why you've been acting the way you have."

Santana's eyes went wide. "No freaking way. I'm not telling them what happened. No."

Brittany spoke up beside her, "I think Mr. Schue is right San. You should tell them. We're a family and they can help. Santana, everyone has been so worried about you."

"No! I don't want them looking at me like I'm some kind of victim in an after-school special."

"Santana, they won't think that. You'll still be you, ready to kick ass and lay the verbal smack down. They won't forget that."

Santana just shook her head again and Will and Brittany wisely backed off. It would be up to her to decide who she told.

Will took a deep breath, knowing she wasn't going to like what he was about to suggest. "Speaking of telling people, we need to go to the police." He continued despite the adamant shaking of Santana's head. "We have to, Santana. If they did that to you they could do it to someone else and we need to stop them."

"Mr. Schue, I'm not going to the police. I've watched enough Law and Order: SVU to know how these things work. I washed away all of the…_evidence_, the bruises have healed and it'll be their word against mine. You know as well as I do that I have a reputation at this school for sleeping around, and there were a lot of people at that party who saw me drunk and making out with Brendan before going upstairs with him- willingly. They'll deny that it was anything but consensual and I can't prove otherwise. I'm not going through that. I can't."

Will could hear the truth in what she was saying, but he couldn't let what he'd heard go unreported. "Well, how about today? We can tell Figgins that they attacked you on school property and at least they'll be expelled."

"There's not a mark on me, Mr. Schue, and I made them both bleed. I don't think that conversation would go in my favor."

It went against every moral he had, but Will couldn't see a way to win. She was right about Figgins and if she refused to come forward and press formal charges there wasn't anything he could do on his own. He sighed in defeat.

"Okay, I'll let it go for now, but if you change your mind I'll support you all the way."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Santana said, pulling Brittany with her as she stood up. Her throat was raw and she knew her face must look a mess, but for some reason Santana felt a little bit better. She'd told someone, two people even, and the sky hadn't fallen, lightning hadn't struck and they hadn't looked at her like a freak.

She wiped at the tear tracks on her face and lifted her chin, "Enough sharing, next thing you know we'll be holding hands and singing kumbaya." She moved across the room, righting chairs as she went.

"Well, are you guys going to help me clean up or are you just going to stand there?"


	9. Chapter 9

_Just a short one today, but the next few will be longer. Thanks for reading!_

Chapter 8

After the three of them had righted the room as best they could- the drums and white board had to be tossed- Brittany volunteered to take Santana home.

Will couldn't resist giving Santana a quick, one-armed hug, who responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Watch it ,Scheuester, I've made guys cry for less," Santana gave him a half-smile. "Seriously, though, thank you."

"I'm here if you ever need to talk. Take care of her tonight, Brittany."

Brittany gave him a small smile of her own. "Always."

Brittany linked her pinky with Santana's as they made their way to the parking lot. Brittany drove to Santana's, wanting the privacy of an empty house.

They held hands all the way to Santana's room, kicking of their shoes and shedding their outer clothes before crawling into bed. Brittany pulled Santana close, the darker girl's back to her chest and just held on.

"Thank you for telling me, San. No matter what, I'm here for you."

Santana closed her eyes, squeezing the other girl's arms where they wrapped around her waist, "I know Britt. Thanks for being there."

Brittany held her friend all night, Santana getting the first decent night's sleep she'd had in over a week, comforted by the feel of Brittany's arms around her. Brittany lay awake, listening to Santana's deep even breaths.

She loved her so much and she knew Santana loved her back. Lying in bed never felt this right with Artie. She loved him and he was a great boyfriend, but she knew she needed to break things off with him. It wasn't fair to either of them to stay together when she loved someone else.

She couldn't help thinking that if she'd taken Santana up on her offer to be together then none of this would have happened. Santana would never have gone anywhere with any guy because she would never have left her alone in the first place and she never would have gotten hurt. She'd tell Artie tomorrow. Santana deserved all of her right now and as soon as the other girl was ready to hear it, she was going to tell her that she was ready to be with her as more than just her best friend.

* * *

><p>When Santana woke up almost twenty-four hours later Brittany was gone, a note on the pillow where her head had been.<p>

'Your fridge is empty so I went to get us some dinner and some stuff for breakfast. I love you, B.'

Santana put the note back where she'd found it and took a deep breath. She'd never tell Brittany, but she was kind of glad to have some time to herself to process everything that had happened yesterday. It'd all gone down so fast, she wasn't sure what the next step was supposed to be. Cry? Lay around in sweat pants binging on tubs of ice cream? Join a support group? Again, her only examples were coming from made-for-TV movies, but she just couldn't picture herself doing any of those things. So what, go back to school and pretend nothing had happened? Because that hadn't worked so well the first time.

Talking about it had helped more than she'd ever admit, but there was no way in hell she was going to become one of those people who wore 'I'm a survivor' t-shirts and shared their stories like a badge of courage. It just wasn't her.

Someone should write a damn instruction manual for these situations because she was lost. Her anger had reduced itself to a mild hum and its absence made her chest feel empty. It was like she'd purged herself of all emotion yesterday and now she didn't know what to do without it.

She made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Shedding her remaining clothes she stepped beneath the warm water and let it work its magic. Feeling much better and much cleaner after washing her hair and her face, Santana turned off the water and grabbed two of the fluffy white towels from the cabinet. Wrapping herself in one and her hair in another, she cleared a spot through the steam on the mirror and looked herself over. The sleep had done wonders, though she was pretty sure the lack of alcohol consumption had helped too, and the face looking back at her was almost normal. Her cheekbones stood out more than usual, but her eyes were no longer dead or filled with rage. She studied her reflection. Looking at her, no one would have been able to guess what a roller coaster this last week had been and the fact both comforted her and oddly enough, upset her. She felt like something so big should have left a mark.

Brittany's face appeared in the mirror next to hers and Santana turned to face her with a soft, "Hey."

"Hey. I got us some food." Brittany searched Santana's face, trying to read her mood. "Are you hungry?"

Santana nodded, surprised to realize that she was. She smiled at her friend, "Give me a sec to get dressed and I'll be right down."

"Okay, I'll set it up in the living room. Your kitchen echoes like a cave and I keep expecting bats to fly down and steal my food."

Santana threw on a pair of her old Cheerios sweats and a t-shirt and walked downstairs to find Brittany curled up on the couch, the coffee table crowded with Chinese take-out.

She looked up as Santana entered, "I wasn't sure what you wanted so I just got a little bit of everything."

Santana ignored the empty couch cushion, choosing instead to curl up next to Brittany, and leaned her head on the taller girl's shoulder.

"It looks great, Brit. Thanks."

Santana clicked the TV on in the background, volume low, before grabbing the sweet and sour chicken. The meal was comfortable and quiet, the girls debating lightly over reruns of America's Next Top Model.

When they both finally settled back, stomachs full, Brittany reached for the remote and muted the TV. She turned so she was facing Santana, who was staring at her hands fiddling in her lap.

"How are you doing?"

Santana sighed and looked up at Brittany's beautiful face, knowing the girl wouldn't accept anything but an honest answer.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "I don't really feel anything right now. I don't know what I'm supposed to do next."

"Just live your life, I guess," Brittany said, reaching over to hold Santana's hands in hers. "If you're sad, be sad, and if you're mad, get mad, and if you get scared, be scared and then remember that I'm here for you and that you're stronger than what happened and that you don't have to let it define your life. Something horrible happened to you, Santana, and I'm so sorry that it did, but what happened isn't who you are. It's going to be hard and it's going to suck, but eventually it'll suck less and I'll be next to you the whole time."

Santana stared speechless at Brittany. "How did I get lucky enough to have such a smart friend?"

Brittany smiled. "You must have picked a lot of four-leaf clovers in a past life."

Santana curled back up against Brittany, thinking about what she'd said. She was right, of course, but that didn't mean it was going to be easy.


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm so glad people are enjoying this story. It makes you feel good as a writer when you see how many people actually want to read your stuff. So thank you for reading and reviewing or alerting! This chapter is a bit longer and I hope you like it._

Chapter 9

* * *

><p>Santana and Brittany woke up the next morning and got ready for school. Another day of cuddling on the couch wasn't going to make any difference, Santana knew, so she might as well bite the bullet and be done with it. She'd thought it over all night and had come to the grudging conclusion that Brittany and Mr. Schue were right. She wanted back into the glee club and she needed to apologize to them and especially to Puck, and although she didn't owe them an explanation, it would definitely help. As much as she would hate to admit it out loud, she trusted them. They were kind of like a family- a weird, fucked-up, incestuous kind of family, but a family none-the-less. It was almost a relief having Brittany and Mr. Schue know what happened. It made her feel a little less like she was facing it all alone. If she told the rest of glee club there would be that many more people to have her back. If someone had told her a year ago that she'd be a happy addition to glee club, let alone considering them friends and welcoming the idea of their support, she probably would have bitch-slapped them. God, there was nothing like hitting rock bottom to make you do things that you'd never have even thought about before.<p>

She figured she didn't have a whole lot left to lose by following Brittany's advice and just taking things as they came, either- meaning if she felt like shit one day she wasn't going to force herself to smile and pretend like nothing was wrong, at least not among her friends. It was exhausting even thinking about it. Explaining straight out what had happened would cut out a lot of unnecessary questions down the road.

So she decided to approach it like she was ripping off a band-aid. Best to do it quick and get it over with. Santana had spent pretty much her whole life putting up a front and downplaying or flat out denying any emotions that came up, but all it took was the memory of looking at a haggard, broken stranger in the mirror to remind her that living her life like that was eventually going to kill her. She wasn't about to stop being a bitch or become all touchy-feely like those people who went to self-help seminars, but she could try to be a little more honest about what she was feeling.

Like maybe owning up to her feelings for a certain blonde…? Now probably wouldn't be the best time for that announcement, and Brittany was still with Artie anyway, but if this being -honest thing didn't come back to bite her in the ass, she might seriously consider it.

"Are you going to come to Glee today?" Brittany asked as she buttered a piece of toast.

Santana nodded.

"Are you going to tell them anything?"

She nodded again. "I think it'll be easier to just get it all out at once, and if anyone tries thinking that this changes where I stand in regard to status or bitch level I'll just have to kick their ass."

"And I'll help," Brittany said, "but I don't think that's going to happen."

Santana was a bit less optimistic. "We'll see."

* * *

><p>Brittany found Artie at his locker just before lunch. She'd texted him the day before to let him know that Santana wasn't feeling good and that she was going to stay with her over night, but they hadn't had a chance to really talk to each other since then.<p>

"Hey Artie," Brittany said, feeling guilty already for what she was going to say.

"Hey! Glad to see you back. Is Santana feeling better?" His excited smile at seeing her only made her feel worse.

"Yeah, she's getting there, but Artie, I need to talk to you…about us."

The smile disappeared from his face instantly.

"You know I love you, right? And you're an awesome boyfriend, but…I love someone else too, and it's not fair to you, or me, or her if we stay together."

Artie's stomach sank. This was it. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to hold on to Brittany as long as he had, but he'd always kind of been expecting this day to come. What he hadn't expected was the 'her.'

"You're in love with a girl?"

Brittany just nodded. "Yeah, but could you please not tell anyone right now? I don't want to get slushied every day. It makes me feel like a human sno-cone and I'm always worried someone might try to lick me."

Artie nodded. He had a pretty good idea who Brittany was in love with, but even as sad as he was, he did love Brittany and he wasn't about to out her if she wasn't ready. There were some things you just respected.

"Can we still be friends?" Brittany asked quietly.

Artie shook his head, unable to look her in the eyes. "Maybe someday, but not right now." He turned and wheeled himself away from her, trying to stop his heart from breaking.

Brittany hated that she'd hurt him, but she knew it was for the best, like when her mother made her swallow that horrible licorice-flavored cold medicine- it was bitter and burned a bit going down, but it always made her feel better in the end.

* * *

><p>Santana was feeling more and more nervous as the day went on. She'd expected at least some looks to come her way, knowing it was highly unlikely her bout of vandalism had gone completely unnoticed, but she had yet to see anyone looking at her without their usual expressions of wariness. She made sure to keep an eye out for Brendan and Steve, but hadn't caught sight of them all day. She wasn't sure what she would have done if she had seen them, but she was thankful to be spared the extra drama today.<p>

By fifth period her stomach was in knots and by sixth period she wasn't sure she'd be able to make it through the class without hurling. This feeling emotions/being honest thing was shit. Then the bell rang and it was time to face the music. Literally.

Santana loitered at her locker, letting everyone filter into the choir room before her. She wanted to deal with everyone at the same time, but she found Brittany waiting for her outside the door anyway.

Brittany could see that Santana was nervous.

"I told Mr. Schue you were coming. Do you want me to stand up there with you?"

"Thanks, Brit, but I think I need to do this by myself," Santana said, taking a deep breath and rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans.

Brittany nodded. "You can do this." She gave Santana's pinky a quick squeeze with hers and walked into the choir room with her.

All heads turned in her direction and Rachel stood up, pitching her voice over the sudden increase of curious chatter coming from the rest of the glee members.

"Mr. Schue, what is she doing here? She quit, remember? We need people with positive attitudes and dedication in this club, not someone whose only input is a constant stream of insults and assaults."

Santana glanced towards Puck at the mention of assault to find him staring at her, his face giving nothing away.

Will moved to stand next to Santana. "Rachel, I'm pretty sure you've quit at least ten times and we've always welcomed you back. Guys, let's give her a break and listen to what Santana has to say, okay?"

Considering most of the glee club had spent the last few days worried about their friend, it didn't take much convincing, and Rachel sat down with an indignant 'hmmph.'

Santana stepped to the middle of the room and cleared her throat, "Umm, I know I don't say this very often, but I wanted to apologize for my behavior last week." She directed it to everyone, but kept her eyes on Puck, trying to let him know she was apologizing for more than just punching him. "I know I was more of a bitch than usual, so I wanted to say I was sorry and I'd like to come back."

Most of the faces in the room reflected the shock they felt at getting an apology from Santana. They'd had a commonly held belief that Santana had never apologized to anyone- for anything- ever. Quinn recovered first with a slight toss of her head.

"If we let Rachel back after all her bitchy diva moments, there's no way we'd deny you."

"Hey!" Rachel yelled, insulted. Quinn just shrugged her eyebrows at her. "It's true."

Kurt spoke up next, "As much as I hate to admit it, it wasn't the same without you."

Will smiled. "That's settled then. Santana, welcome back." He started to ask her if there was anything else she wanted to say when Puck cut him off.

"Are you going to tell us what the hell is going on with you or what?"

All eyes swung back to settle expectantly on Santana. Santana glance toward Brittany, who was nodding encouragingly. Santana looked around the room before dropping her eyes to the ground with a sigh. She wouldn't be able to do this if she was looking at them. She hesitated, not knowing exactly where to start.

It took a few tries before she could get the words out, but everyone waited for her silently, aware from her behavior that whatever she had to say was going to be big.

"I was such a bitch last week because something happened, and I didn't know how to deal with it. So I just got angry instead." Damn this was hard. _Just breathe, and get it out. Like a band-aid, remember?_

"I was raped."

Her statement was met with a moment of heavy silence before everyone broke out in an uproar. Santana finally raised her eyes to judge their reactions and make out most of the responses. There were a lot of "Oh, my god," and "What!" "When?" "Who?" Quinn stood up from her chair with a look on her face that warned of an impending hug, but Santana held up a hand to stop her. When everyone started to quiet down Santana was surprised to see a few of the girls looked like they were about to cry and several of the boys were sitting with clenched jaws and tight fists.

"Look, I did not tell you guys so you would feel sorry for me and if I see any one of you looking at me like 'Oh, poor Santana' I won't hesitate to punch you in the face. I just…I discovered the hard way that trying to deny that it happened was not going to work and I have a feeling there's going to be a lot more days when I'll be super-bitchy and have a worse attitude than usual and I'm asking that when that happens you just leave me alone and let me deal with it, okay? I don't want to hear 'Are you okay?' every other second, got it?"

There were nods all around and despite her threat more than one person was looking at her with soft, sympathetic eyes, which made Santana's eyes narrow into a glare. "I'm serious about punching you if you continue to look at me like that. Don't think for a second that me telling you this means I've gone soft or stopped being a bitch. I still hate most of you and I probably always will. And if any of you breathes a word about this to anyone else I will kill you."

Everyone was quiet again for a minute before Puck spoke up. He'd been silently staring at Santana since her admission. She could feel the weight of his eyes on her face.

When he spoke it was with a snarl, "Who?"

Santana just shook her head. "No. I tell you and you go beat them to a pulp and then you get sent back to juvie. As much I like to picture them bleeding and broken it's not worth having you go back to lock-up."

His voice was even worse when he noticed what she'd let slip. "_THEM?_"

Santana closed her eyes, mentally kicking herself. But before she could say anything Brittany did.

"It was that new senior Brendan and his friend Steve."

Santana just stared at her, speechless and feeling more than a little betrayed.

Brittany turned to her. "I'm sorry, San, but if we can't put them in jail and we can't get them expelled at least now we can all try to keep them from coming anywhere near you. And if they get the shit kicked out of them every day in the meantime, well…I won't be crying about it at night."

Santana didn't think she'd ever heard Brittany wish violence on someone in all the time she'd known her and it was that that let her know how much her friend was hurting too. She could see a similar look on the rest of the glee club and she was surprised to realize how much what had happened to her was now affecting everyone else. She hadn't really thought that far ahead.

Puck looked positively murderous and she was surprised that he was still sitting there.

"Puck, seriously, they're not worth getting sent back to juvie," she tried to reason with him.

He stared at her with a look she'd never seen before. "You are."

Santana felt tears sting the backs of her eyes at his quiet words. No way, this was all bad enough; there was no way she was going to start crying too.

She could see the determination in his face and knew no matter what she said there was going to be violence.

"Just promise me you won't kill them."

He scoffed.

"Promise me."

She could see the muscle tick in his jaw before he nodded his head. "I promise."

Will had stayed quiet, unable to deny that although he firmly believed that violence never solved anything, the idea of the boys who almost broke the strongest person he knew bleeding was eerily satisfying. He knew as well that nothing was going to stop Puck from doing what he wanted to do, but he'd make sure that at least one or two of the other boys stayed with him to make sure things didn't go too far.

"Okay, guys. I know that what Santana just shared is really serious, so if any of you need to talk you can always come to me or Miss Pillsbury- as long as you respect Santana's request to remain unnamed," he finished in a rush, seeing Santana start to protest at his suggestion they talk to someone outside the glee club. She gave a short nod at his reminder, and went to take her seat next to Brittany. He could see them holding hands again, Brittany giving Santana a small smile.

"Does anyone else have any questions about what Santana shared or should we start catching her up on what she missed?"

He could see that a few people wanted to ask more questions, but they seemed to decide against asking them right now. He figured Santana was probably grateful- he could only imagine how hard it had been for her stand in front of them and share her story.

"Good. Let's get back to singing then, huh? Kurt, Mercedes? You had something planned?"

Santana settled back into her chair as the pair took their spots at the front of the room, glad to be out of the spotlight. She still couldn't quite believe she'd actually done it and she felt a bit dizzy now that she had a minute to think about it, but as Kurt and Mercedes belted out the first few lines to their song she felt herself finally start to relax.

This was normal, life went on, and when she stood up to dance and join in with the harmony she felt more like herself than she had all week.


	11. Chapter 11

_This is the longest chapter to date. I want to thank cattastrophic (I think I spelled that the right way) for her suggestion to include a doctor-related scene. Originally I had this story end at the last chapter with a short epilogue, but adding a doctor scene gave me a chance to resolve a few things in more detail and I think it worked out for the best, so I hope you like it. There's only the epilogue left after this chapter, and I'm surprised at how much trouble I'm having letting go of this story. =) Again, I made some last minute changes AFTER my beta had given it a read, so if there are any mistakes they're all mine._

* * *

><p>Brittany walked Santana to her car after glee amidst a chorus of hushed offers to 'call if you need someone to talk to,' although she did manage to avoid another attempted hug from Quinn.<p>

Brittany looked over at Santana as they settled into the seats. "I'm so proud of you. How do you feel?"

Santana shrugged, "Better, I guess- I don't know. Kind of relieved, but at the same time I still wish no one knew. It's like they got to see me naked or something."

"That's my favorite way to see you."

Santana eyes widened as they flew to Brittany. Translated from Brittany-speak Santana was pretty sure she'd meant she liked it when Santana was open and sharing. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether Brittany was aware of the double meanings behind the things she said, but the impish glint in her baby blue eyes told Santana she was fully aware of it this time.

Santana couldn't help the wry twist of her mouth. "Are you supposed to be saying things like that to me when you have a boyfriend?"

Brittany watched Santana's face carefully as she spoke. "Artie and I broke up today."

Santana's face went blank for a second as she blinked. How was she supposed to respond to that? Pretend to be upset or let Brittany see how happy that news made her? What she wanted to say was 'About damn time,' but she knew Brittany had really cared about him so instead she said, "Are you okay?"

Now it was Brittany's turn to shrug. "It was sad, but it was the right thing to do. I love Artie and I always will, but the last few days have made me realize that I love you more. I know this probably isn't the best time for this, but I love you, Santana, and I just want you to know I'm here whenever you're ready, one hundred percent yours."

For a moment Santana couldn't breathe. Talk about an emotional roller-coaster ride, could this day get any more freaking intense? She reached out to lock her pinky with Brittany's, heart pounding, her eyes saying more than her mouth ever could.

Brittany seemed to understand because she just smiled and gave Santana's pinky a squeeze and swayed to knock her shoulder gently. "Let's get out of here. I've been craving dessert ever since geography. We were looking at pictures of the Andes Mountains and they looked just like chocolate ice cream with powdered sugar on top."

Santana started the car and backed out of the parking space with a grin. "Chocolate ice cream and powdered sugar, coming right up."

* * *

><p>School seemed strange the next day, or maybe it was just Santana who felt different, because classes seemed to fly by faster than usual. Santana and Brittany had spent the previous evening making themselves sick on ice cream and cuddling on the couch before making their way to Santana's bed. It'd felt so right, lying there together for the first time without anyone between them, without any denial of their feelings for each other. Between talking to the glee club yesterday and whispering 'I love you' to Brittany before falling asleep in her arms, Santana felt like she was starring in her own personal episode of The Twilight Zone. So much had happened so fast she wasn't sure she was actually processing anything.<p>

She did know one thing for sure, she'd avoided Puck since yesterday and if she actually wanted things to get back to some semblance of normal she needed to suck it up and talk to him. After her performance in the locker room, she owed him that.

Brittany agreed to wait in the library while Santana talked to Puck, so when the blonde headed for the book stacks, Santana headed to the parking lot to wait for Puck after the last bell rang.

Santana shuffled her feet next to Puck's car when she finally spotted him heading her way. There were only a few students left in the lot and Santana was glad they wouldn't have more of an audience.

"Hey."

He stopped a few feet from her and cocked his head to the side. "Hey."

Santana took a deep breath, but couldn't seem to make her eyes move higher than the level of Puck's chest. "I really am sorry for hitting you. You didn't deserve it- this time," she added with a small smirk, sobering up again almost instantly. "And I'm sorry for trying to use you to make myself feel better. I just really needed to feel like I was in control, you know?"

Puck was uncharacteristically quiet, waiting until Santana's eyes made a quick dart to his face, trying to judge his reaction, before he answered her.

"I get it. I'm not mad at you for any of that, but why didn't you just tell me? I know our relationship is messed-up, but I thought we were kind of friends."

"We are, kind of. I couldn't tell anyone, Puck. I never planned to. I didn't want anyone to know."

"Why not? It's not like it was your fault."

Santana's eyes were firmly planted on the ground now, her voice a little shakier than she would have liked to admit. "I couldn't help feeling like it kind of was. I was drunk, I was making out with him, and I did go to that room willingly. He said he knew I was the school slut and he wasn't wrong. It's not like I ever tried to hide the fact that I've slept with a lot of guys."

"So you like sex; so what? That doesn't give them a right not to respect you when you say no. You know that, right?"

Santana shrugged her shoulder, "Yeah, I _know_ that in my head, but it's harder than I thought to make the rest of me feel the same."

"Why?"

"Because every time I think about it I can't help thinking 'what if.' What if I wasn't drunk? What if I didn't have a reputation for being sleeping around? What if I was stronger? Smarter? Faster? Fuck, I never thought anyone could make me feel that helpless, or that worthless. It's like I wasn't even a person to them. It's just harder than I thought to stop that feeling and the idea that I could have changed what happened if I'd just been… _not _me."

Puck cleared a lump from his throat. It broke something inside him to see such a strong person standing in front of him doubting and blaming herself for something that wasn't her fault. It was fucked up.

Santana spoke again before he could get himself together completely.

"Like I said, I _know_ that it wasn't my fault and all that, but it's kind of like admitting you got your ass kicked. No matter what, it's still a little embarrassing."

Santana turned and leaned her back against his car, Puck following her lead. He was about as bad as Santana when it came to emotional honesty and shit like that, but he made himself ask the question that had been nagging at him anyway. "So I get why you did what you did in the locker room, but why me?"

Santana shrugged her shoulders again. "I don't know. Like you said, we're friends and I didn't think you'd say no, and…I guess because I knew you wouldn't hurt me if things got out of hand."

Puck reached over until he was holding Santana's hand and gave her a sad smile. "Thanks for trusting me."

Santana was pretty sure she'd never heard Puck say anything so sincere without immediately following it up with some sort of smart-ass remark and it made her smile as she rolled her eyes in his direction, giving his fingers a small squeeze back, "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head."

Puck turned impulsively and gave Santana a quick hug before she could protest, both of them surprised when Santana hugged him back.

After a minute Santana pulled away and gave Puck a playful shove towards his door. "Enough, get the hell out of here before someone starts spreading the word that we were mackin' in the parking lot and your girlfriend comes to kick both our asses."

* * *

><p>Santana walked back toward the building with a sigh of relief. Okay, so that wasn't the most comfortable conversation she'd ever had, but it wasn't as bad as she'd thought. She must be getting better at this sharing thing.<p>

She made her way through the halls to the library and entered the room to see Brittany staring at one of the computers with a frightened look on her face. Santana frowned, the last time Brittany had looked like that at a computer was when she'd gotten a spam email warning that little green men and the end of the world was coming. It had taken weeks before she'd managed to convince Brittany that no one was going to die by alien invasion.

Brittany looked up to see Santana coming and turned off the computer with another worried look. She grabbed her backpack with one hand and Santana's arm with the other, practically pulling the shorter girl to the doors.

"What's wrong?" Santana tugged on Brittany's hand once they cleared the library doors until she slowed down.

"We have to go to the hospital."

Santana stepped back with alarm to look Brittany over from head to toe. "Why? Are you sick? Did you hurt yourself? What's wrong?"

Brittany shook her head. "No, for you."

"What?" It took a second for her brain to switch tracks."No. No way." Santana turned to walk away. She did not want to have this conversation. Damn it, she should have known better. Things had been going too good today.

Brittany lengthened her stride to catch up with her. "I looked it up on the internet, Santana. It's too late to get evidence and stuff like that, but what if you're pregnant? What if they gave you some sort of disease? I don't want you to get sick!"

Santana tried to remind herself that Brittany was only doing what any good friend would do, but damn it, how many times did she have to say she didn't want to take it any further than glee club. Telling her friends was one thing, but going to the doctor and having to force out all the details while some stranger got all up in her business was another thing entirely.

She ignored Brittany until they got to her car, unwilling to have this conversation echoing in a hallway at McKinley High.

The tone in the front seat of her car was the polar opposite of what it had been yesterday as Santana turned to face Brittany's worried eyes.

"Look, Britt, I'm not pregnant, okay? I've been on birth control ever since Quinn got knocked up. I know you're worried, but I'm fine, I swear."

She could tell Brittany was not convinced when she unzipped her backpack and shoved a handful of papers at her. Santana found herself looking at a list of sexually transmitted diseases while Brittany took up her argument once again.

"I know you think you're okay, but maybe not. It said a lot of these diseases don't have symptoms for weeks or months or even years. What if they gave you HIV? I don't want you to die."

Santana had to admit she'd been so caught up after it happened in trying to push all thoughts of it away that she hadn't really let herself consider the possibility. Thinking about it would have meant worry and worry was not a friend of anger. Actually looking at a list of diseases, though, seeing them written out in black and white and seeing how much it had Brittany worried was enough to rattle her.

She looked at Brittany with a sigh. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Brittany shook her head, relaxing a bit at Santana's resigned tone.

"Fine. I'll get a blood test done, but I'm not letting those doctors put their hands anywhere else, got it?"

Brittany smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Santana refused to go to Lima General Hospital; her father was a surgeon there and she wouldn't risk being spotted by one of her father's friends. So instead, the girls found themselves driving an hour away to the women's clinic in a neighboring town.<p>

Santana felt her nerves jump with the chime on the door as she and Brittany stepped into the reception area. She made her way to the front desk and waited until the receptionist turned to her with that painful-looking plastic smile worn by people who are forced to deal with the public all day.

"How can I help you today?"

"I wanted to get some blood work done."

"What kind of blood work were you looking to get done, sweetie?"

Santana bristled, "Well, _honey, _I wanted to find out if the assholes who raped me two weeks ago left any loving STDs behind."

The woman's smile disappeared at Santana's words, her voice losing the optimistic, saccharine tone. Her voice was genuinely kind as she handed Santana the clipboard questionnaire. "You haven't seen a doctor since it happened?"

"Do you think I'd be here talking to some idiot receptionist if I had?" Santana could feel Brittany's hand on her own and knew she was being rude, but she couldn't help it. It's not like just because she'd been uncharacteristically open with everyone that she was suddenly going to be nice to strangers who called her 'sweetie.' A girl has her limits.

Unfazed, the woman pointed to the clipboard, told Santana to take a seat while she filled it out and that a doctor would be with her soon.

There were only a few people in the waiting area, so Santana had only just finished filling in the forms before she and Brittany were trailing behind a nurse toward one of the examination rooms.

Santana settled onto the exam bed, paper crinkling beneath her while the nurse took the prerequisite pulse and blood pressure, made a few notes in her file and left with a smile. Brittany settled into a chair in the corner.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but when the doctor finally came Santana had given up sitting on the bed in favor of pacing the small room and Brittany had become fascinated with the small model showing a cross-section view of a pregnant woman's body that had been sitting on the counter under the safe sex poster.

Both girls froze when the dark-haired woman walked in. "Hi, I'm Dr. Janssen." She held her hand out to Santana with a smile.

Santana gave the woman a hard look before reaching out to shaker her hand. "Santana Lopez."

Dr. Janssen turned to Brittany and offered her hand again. Brittany took it with a smile. "Hi, I'm Brittany."

The doctor turned back toward Santana, motioning for her to take her place on the exam bed before settling herself on a rolling stool next to the counter.

"So, I see on your chart that you came to get tested for STDs, is that right?"

Santana nodded.

"Can you tell me why you decided to get tested now? Have you recently become sexually active or had unprotected sex where a concern for possible STDs came up?"

Santana would have snorted at the idea of only recently becoming sexually active if she hadn't been so nervous.

"Two weeks ago I was raped. I didn't go to the hospital when it happened and now Brittany's worried I might have gotten an STD. I don't want to listen to her worrying every day for the next year, so I came to get tested."

Dr. Janssen smiled at Brittany. "Well, that was a very smart thing to do. You should thank her."

Brittany grinned at the doctor's praise. It wasn't often people used the word smart when talking about her.

Santana couldn't help but smile back at the proud look on Brittany's face. She loved that look. She turned back to the doctor to find the woman staring at her with a new, understanding smile. Santana raised her chin, challenging the doctor to call her out on her feelings for the girl.

Dr. Janssen only smiled back at her. "Can I ask why you didn't go to the hospital when it happened?"

Santana kept her face neutral. "I didn't want to."

The doctor was smart enough to see pushing that line of questioning was probably not going to be helpful. "Well, if your friend looked up enough to be worried about STDs then you probably know we can't collect any evidence for a sexual assault kit and that it's too late for emergency contraceptives or the early exposure medication we give to help prevent HIV."

Santana nodded. She knew that. The doctor gave her own nod and turned to prepare the blood collection vials and hypodermic needle. Santana offered her arm and the doctor tied the rubber tubing, inserted the needle and filled vial after vial with practiced ease. It was over in a matter of minutes.

"We'll be testing for all common communicable STDs, as well as HIV and pregnancy. You'll have to come back in a month and again in six months and one year for follow up HIV tests, assuming the initial result is negative. I see you wrote you've been taking birth control, but it never hurts to be sure."

The doctor finished labeling the vials and scribbled a few notes on Santana's chart before turning back to the girls. "I have some information on support groups and the name of a really good counselor who specializes in sexual assaults. I'll get the information together for you. If you don't want to use it you don't have to, but you'll have it in case you ever need it."

Santana didn't bother to protest. She'd toss it in the trash as soon as she could, but arguing would just give her a headache. Let the woman think she'd been helpful.

Dr. Janssen turned to Brittany with a smile. "While you're here would you like to be tested as well? If you're sexually active it's always a good idea to be tested for STDs."

Santana let out a small laugh at the look on Brittany's face. The girl did not like needles, she'd almost passed out when she got her ears pierced. After letting Brittany drag her out here, she couldn't help but tease a little.

"Yeah, c'mon Brit. You never know, right?"

Brittany looked at her with wide eyes and Santana took pity on her and slid off the bed to hold her hand.

"Neither of us have been exactly virginal the last few years Brit. You might as well get it done while we're here. For me?"

Brittany nodded, the look on her face the same as the look she'd had when Coach Sylvester had announced she'd be shot out of that stupid cannon. "For you, because you've been so brave and you came out here and let her take your blood, too." Brittany dropped her voice to a whisper, "You don't think she's a vampire, do you?"

Santana shook her head and smiled, keeping her eyes locked with Brittany's until it was over. The doctor fixed a smiley face band-aid to Brittany's arm and snapped off her gloves. "All set. Good job." She stood up, Santana and Brittany following suit and crossed to the door.

"We'll have the results in a few days. I'll walk you out and give you that information I mentioned earlier."

The girls stood in the doorway to the reception area while the doctor scribbled down some names and numbers, handing the paper to Santana.

"Santana's lucky to have such a good friend," she said, directing her comment to Brittany, "but remember, if you're going to have sex make sure your partner wears a condom, okay?"

Brittany just grinned at her and announced in a clear voice that had every head turning to look her way, "I only plan to have sex with Santana from now on. Does that mean she has to wear a condom?" She could see the thoughts tumbling around in Brittany's head and knew she was giving serious thought about how and where Santana might actually wear a condom.

Santana felt herself freeze for a second before laughing at the shocked looks the people in the reception area were giving them and promised the speechless doctor she'd explain everything to Brittany later.

Santana hadn't wanted to use her father's insurance, so she quickly paid for the visit with her Visa, confident her parents wouldn't even notice the charge. She looked up to find many of the room's occupants still staring at her and Brittany.

Santana took a deep breath. This was it, their first test. If she and Brittany were going to do this right, they had to start somewhere, so she lifted her hand to Brittany's face, looked into her beautiful eyes and in front of a room full of strangers, completely sober, she kissed her girlfriend. When she finally stepped back she saw a grin on Brittany's face that she knew mirrored her own.

With Brittany by her side, she was invincible. Screw what people at school were going to say, nothing they did could make her feel worse than the way she'd made herself feel since that party. If she and Brittany could get through this together, Santana figured dealing with the students at McKinley High would be hardly any trouble at all.

And when they walked out the door, pinky in pinky, heads held high, floating on the memory of their kiss, Santana finally felt like things were going to be okay.


	12. Chapter 12

_AN: Well, this is it. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. The song featured at the end is an abbreviated version of the song 'Storm Comin' by The Wailin' Jennys. It's an awesome song and although it's not her usual genre I think Santana would sound wonderful singing it. It's on youtube, look it up. =) And I want to thank my beta _again _for all her help and suggestions, which were always spot on in keeping the characters in character. _

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><p><span>Epilogue<span>

Things didn't change too much over the next few days, which was a relief for Santana because she wasn't sure how much more change she could handle right now. Brittany was a rock and continued to sleep over at Santana's house while Artie moped around school. Santana tried to make herself feel sorry for him, but it didn't take. She was glad she finally had Brittany all to herself. Selfish, yes, but no one had ever accused Santana of being good at sharing when it came to Brittany's attention.

The rumor mill at McKinley was oddly silent about the recent drama and Santana found herself grateful that her friends hadn't betrayed her trust. She knew how much they all loved to gossip, but they seemed to have no problem finding other things to focus on, like how Coach Sylvester had tried to have all her Cheerios sterilized after another girl on the squad had turned up pregnant. Which, she of course blamed on Quinn for having set a bad example, and when Figgins denied her compulsory sterilization clause from being added to the Cheerios contract, she took her anger out on the glee club again with a vengeance. Santana thought it was nice have a drama to focus on that wasn't her own.

A few days after she'd rejoined New Directions Santana heard a rumor that Brendan and Steve had landed in the hospital, but none of the glee boys would share the details. They all gave her the same satisfied grin when she asked them if it was true and assured her that Brendan and Steve wouldn't be bothering her again. In fact, they'd managed to '_convince' _the two boys that it was in their best bodily interest to finish the rest of their senior year at a different school. She tried to act offended that the boys thought she needed them to fight her battles for her, but secretly she was relieved not to have to worry about seeing them anymore.

Things were more or less back to normal between her and Puck, even though since their talk he'd developed this annoying habit of shooting death-glares at anyone who looked at her a little too long. Santana tried telling him it was useless, that she was the hottest thing at McKinley and they were always going to admire her smokin' hot body, as they should, but it didn't seem to help.

Dr. Janssen had called to deliver the news that both girls were disease-free, which led to a private celebration that involved a spectacular amount of lip action.

Santana's parents eventually did come home from where they'd been vacationing in Brazil, but with Brittany now sharing her bed almost every night, Santana had barely noticed they were still AWOL. It never even crossed her mind to tell them what had happened.

She and Brittany did end up telling them about the change in their relationship status after even they started to notice that Brittany was coming out of Santana's bedroom most mornings. To say they were comfortable with it would have been an outright lie, but by unspoken agreement all parties involved seemed to realize that as long her parents weren't subjected to too many displays of public affection they could pretend the girls were still just best friends and let it go. Considering how little time Santana and her parents spent together it was pretty much a non-issue.

Brittany's parents threw them a party.

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><p>Life got back to normal faster than anyone would have expected over the next few months. In the beginning Santana had a lot of days when she woke up feeling raw and angry and had more than a few nights where she found herself crying in Brittany's arms until she fell asleep, but this was happening less and less. She'd eased herself back into attending parties every weekend, but it was rare now that she drank herself stupid, and she always had someone there with her to watch her back. To return the favor Santana found herself keeping an eye out for any girl who looked like she might be too drunk for her own good, helping many a stranger back home so they didn't find themselves passed out in a strange house. If these random acts of kindness also involved Santana using the opportunity to give the girl a brutally honest dose of reality about how stupid it was to let themselves get <em>that <em>drunk at a party full of similarly wasted, horny guys, well… she just considered it 'tough love' and hoped they'd remember at least a bit of it when they woke up the next morning.

She and Brittany took their relationship slow, letting themselves get used to being together without the denial or secrecy and making sure Santana felt comfortable with everything before doing more than getting their sweet lady kisses on. It wasn't the smoothest thing, as having a serious relationship with anyone, even and especially with someone she loved, caused Santana more than a few moments of panic, but luckily, Brittany was patient and well-versed in how to calm a panicked Santana Lopez and neither girl was willing to give up on the other.

No one in glee was really surprised when they officially announced they were dating and while a few slushies and homophobic slurs were tossed their way Santana found it didn't bother her as much as she'd thought it would. After all, Santana was still a bitch with a bite and three years of striking fear into the student body wasn't easily forgotten. Those who did seem to need reminding, thinking girl-love somehow made Santana less frightening, were quickly put back in their place with a few choice words and a physical threat or two.

So here they were. Two and a half months after Santana had found herself pinned down on a strange bed while drunken strangers shouted below, two months after she'd put her trust in her friends and admitted to being raped, three weeks after she'd kissed her girlfriend in front of her locker, and two weeks since she'd had her last nightmare, Santana took to the stage with Brittany and Mercedes and poured her heart out in song.

_When that storm comes don't run for cover  
>When that storm comes don't run for cover<br>When that storm comes don't run for cover  
>Don't run from the coming storm<br>No, their ain't no use in runnin'_

_When that rain falls, let it wash away…_

_Let it wash away that fallin' rain, the tears and the trouble…_

_When that love comes, open up the door…_

_You gotta stand on up and let it in, you gotta let love through the door, oh…_

_When that storm comes, don't run for cover_  
><em>Don't run from the coming storm 'cause you can't keep the storm from coming<em>

_No, don't run from the coming storm 'cause you can't keep the storm from coming_  
><em>No, no, You can't keep the storm from coming<em>  
><em>You can't keep the storm from coming<em>

And when she stood on that stage, holding her girlfriend's hand, listening to the rest of the glee club cheering them on, Santana knew she was well on her way to happy.

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><p><em>So, I hope the ending didn't disappoint too much. I was trying to avoid a snap-your-fingers-and-everything's-okay ending, but at the same time didn't want to drag it out to 50+ chapters detailing every up and down. Let me know what you thought and what you liked or didn't like, what worked or didn't work. I won't take criticisms personally and that way, since I've fallen in love with writing these characters, when I write another story I can make it even better.<em> =)


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